


Brand New.

by Cgest



Category: Brand New, Kristen Stewart - Fandom, Robert Pattinson - Fandom, Twilight
Genre: Emo, F/M, RPF, life - Freeform, twilight - Freeform, why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cgest/pseuds/Cgest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kristen Stewart makes a tough decision. She assumes the future is already bleak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brand New.

Kristen Stewart sat in her room blaring Brand New. Her assistant running around gathering last minute belongings for her trip. 

She had some friends over last night to talk about RPatz and their relationship, and to also get super fucking stoned. 

“Dude you need to sever the tie. It is self care” said one friend.

“Yeah man, fuck this. Let it go” said another. 

Kristen knew they were all right, but she couldn’t help feel this hollow opening right in the middle of her chest. 

She realized that no matter how badly she wanted to rewind the clock with Rob, nothing would ever be the same. 

It would never be like how they first met on Twilight all happy banter and increased sexual tension. He’d never reach across her cheeks and swipe away at stray tears when she was frustrated. He’d never tell her the words, “I love you and I care about you” ever again. 

Kristen thought about when she had to film the “extreme depression” scene for New Moon. The one where all she did was sit in a chair in the same clothes, unmoving, letting the months pass her by, waking up in the middle of the night only to scream. 

That’s how she felt now. Except for instead of just sitting and rotting away she had to go to work, and instead of waking up in the middle of the night to scream she was greeted by early morning panic attacks and dread. 

She woke up everyday at 6am on the dot, unable to force herself back into unconsciousness. 

She wouldn’t understand time. She couldn’t understand the human condition. She couldn’t understand RPatz. She wanted to not exist for a bit. She wanted to evaporate into the air. 

She thought about how lucky air molecules are, being made of nothingness, weightlessness, unaware of the purpose they serve for humanity. 

What purpose did a broken heart serve other than to torment you?

She had been scrolling through Facebook when she came across a stupid fucking Henry Rollins quote. 

Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. Realize the strength and move on. 

She chortled to herself because punk rock was so idiotic sometimes, but she supposed Henry Rollins had a point. 

She remembered sitting with her therapist crying, wondering why she was being treated this way, why she was so replaceable, why she was the sole air of blame when deep deep down, she really knew she wasn’t. 

“Well, Kristen, you can do two things, you can either survive, or you can tear yourself to shreds over this. But you can choose a different path. You can choose not to do the same things you’ve done before.”

The word survive was powerful. She didn’t think about her mental health as a point of survival anymore, because she was so busy chasing ghosts of a person who could care less about her existence. 

She deleted all of her blogs, she blocked all of her social media, she even had her friend block RPatz’s phone number as she blared, “Now or Never” from the High School Musical 3 soundtrack so she wouldn’t have a major meltdown. 

Her friend hugged her as they both cried after it was done. She was thankful she could cry around people and have them not rebuff her. 

“KRISTEN LET’S GO WE NEED TO LEAVE FOR THE AIRPORT” shouted her assistant, Lane. 

Kristen casually rolled her eyes and thought about how she threw away 3 years of herself because RPatz decided to make his instagram private. Probably because he was fucking some new crusty slut that worked at a cafe making 9 dollars an hour in New York City. She inhaled deeply and wondered why that upset her so much. Would she rather RPatz be moving on with someone who was more accomplished than her? Someone that made more money than her? Sure this bitch might have been thinner than her, but she still looked like that weird lemur from Ice Age. 

She was supposed to talk to Rob 5 days from now, even after their epic meltdown, their last and final one she realized. 

She figured ghosting him would be the best. Because whenever people utter the words, “Goodbye” or try to “get closure” it makes healing even harder. There’s a finality in those words that she wanted to avoid. She wondered if he’d even notice on September 17th, when neither of them talked. When she didn’t reach out to him, if he’d even reach out to her and notice his text go unanswered. How if he tried to trace her steps and see how she was doing via the internet, he wouldn’t be able to, because just like in New Moon she pulled and Edward and removed any trace of herself from his life–at least digitally. 

She tried to remind herself she couldn’t worry about any of it anymore. That if in the future she ever decided she wanted to cross paths with him again, maybe they could, and that any stages of repair right now would just be painful and unwarranted. 

She took a deep breath and hummed along to the last Brand New song she listened to before dragging her feet down her sprawling mansion steps and out into the world where people, “told her she belonged.”

But when I say let’s keep in touch,  
I really mean I wish that you’d grow up.  
This is the first song for your mixtape.  
It’s short just like your temper,  
but somewhat golden like the afternoons we used to spend before you got too cool…


End file.
